I Don’t Really Want To Write Sad Poetry Poem by Connie Webb

I don’t really want to write sad poetry
But somehow it turns out that way
I start to write a poem
And what is it I say
I tell you of my pain
I tell you of my sorrow
When all I wanted to tell you
Was about that flaming marshmallow
By the fire at the sea
Some days long ago
Where we searched endlessly
For driftwood to start a fire aglow
Laughing on the beach
Making sandcastles in the sand
Sleeping under the stars
And our breakfasts they were grand
Usually donuts of all kinds
Maybe some milk or juice
Then off we went to play
Our parents let us loose
We would swim way out in the ocean
It’s a wonder we didn’t all drown
But all of us were good swimmers
The best there were around.
Then dad would call us all back in
We pretended we didn’t hear
But he swam out after us
We came in and packed up all our gear
Back home we’d go with sand
All over the car seats and the floor
No one really minded sand
After our beautiful day at the shore.
I don’t really want to write sad poetry
Anymore.